A Surrender Of Hope, page 4
I can feel his magic surge through me, wiggling into my chest and wrapping around my heart, making the organ squeeze in protest as my vision blurs. I can feel something warm fighting back, a black spark of magic I hadn’t felt before, slowly growing and attacking the red magic of the man. A war I can feel inside but can’t see. My eyes fall shut as the black magic grows, encompassing the red and making the man holding me snarl in frustration. His claws sink deep into my body, making the smallest of pained whimpers slip past my parted lips.
“Meyer!” a new voice yells, panic in his tone as footsteps rush up the stairs of the dais behind me. I open my eyes, looking into the mirror, but I only see the large man.
“Relax into the magic. Let it soothe you. It will take the pain away,” the man says, pushing more magic into me, making the black magic inside me fight even harder. I want to shake my head, to yank out of this man’s grip, but I’m paralyzed, my mind feeling foggy like I’ve drunk too much wine. Suddenly, the screams of hundreds of people fill my ears, and the vision of burning cities filters through my mind. My stomach heaves, and I can feel bile crawl up my throat at the horror playing in my mind.
“Meyer, you're bleeding!” I hear the new voice say, a deep growl echoes next to me and the feather-like touch of fingers ghosts over my skin as someone inhales deeply. “Inanis.” The word is growled like a curse before I feel more touches on my shoulders. I can see someone from the corner of my eye and frown as I look back in the mirror. There is no one here but me and the monstrous man. I groan, my head rolling forward on my shoulders, my strength rapidly diminishing as his red magic increases inside me. I reach out and cling to the black magic inside me, as feelings of protection and warmth radiate off it despite the fact it's slowly weakening.
“Keep your eyes on me, darling girl. It’s nearly over,” the man whispers almost soothingly, and like a slave to my own body, I listen, my eyes opening and reconnecting with the red gaze behind me. My back arches as the pain increases, making tears run down my cheeks.
“Shit, you have to look away from the mirror! Look away, Meyer!” the voice demands, and I blink my eyes a few times, trying but failing to do as the voice commands. “Now, dammit! Valen and Creed will break if you die, and I can’t lose them! Now I need you to woman the fuck up and break whatever connection that bastard has on you!” My head suddenly whips to the side, and a burning pain erupts on my right cheek when I break my gaze with the mirror.
My fingers ball into fists at my sides, the first type of movement I’ve been able to control since looking into the mirror, and I gasp, drawing air into my aching lungs. Oh shit! I wasn't breathing! How the hell did I not realize I wasn't breathing?
“Good! Now keep those eyes shut and fucking fight him, Meyer! I swear to the gods of your world and mine, I will not forgive you if you give in to him!” the familiar voice I can’t quite place bellows next to me. I have no issue with keeping my eyes shut. I never want to see that man again!
His red magic in me has already weakened, but I can still feel the sharp claws digging into my shoulders and heavy, hot hands wrapping around me as I try to yank myself away from him. The sound of people screaming faded until I could only hear my breaths and the slight growl of the man standing next to me.
“Say something so I know you’re actually alive here, Meyer!” the voice says, and I frown, finally figuring out who that voice belongs to.
“Jesthren?” I ask, my voice sounding weak and scratchy to my ears as I try to keep breathing. A slew of words I don’t understand suddenly comes from Jesthren as I keep my eyes shut. A cool hand touches my smarting cheek as he grunts beside me, his touch suddenly gone. “Shit. That fucking hurts. I can’t touch you without him trying to pull me into a trance. He almost got me when I slapped you! You need to fight him, Meyer. Get out of his hold.”
“I can’t,” I whisper, trying to shove the red magic from me. The mark on my wrist burns, and I groan in pain as my feet shake. My feet… Oh shit, I’m standing by myself again! That’s good, right?
“Don’t give me that crap. You somehow have all my brothers head over fucking heels for you, and that is something I never thought I would see. There is obviously something more to you, girl. Now, if you want them back, you have to fight because I can tell you they are fighting for you right now! How else would I be here after you died?”
I died!?
My eyes fly open at that remark, and I curse, making sure I’m looking at my feet and not the mirror as I nod and swallow hard.
“There… there is black magic—”
“Follow it!” Jesthren all but shouts into my ear. “Now!”
“But what if it’s a trap?” Fear courses through me as I try to shove the red magic away. It moves slightly, loosening from around my heart and making me sag slightly in relief.
“What does it feel like?” Jesthren asks, sounding slightly more patient than before as he tries to coach me through this. I think about it for a moment and smile despite the pain I feel in every inch of my body.
“Safe… It feels safe,” I whisper and grab hold of it, gasping when the magic doubles, then triples in strength, latching onto the bright red magic and all but eradicating it before a roar of anger fills the throne room. I scream as I feel the claws release me, leaving deep bloody wounds in their place as the mirror shatters into tiny pieces. My head snaps to the side as I watch Jesthren drop the shield and swords I used earlier to the ground, his chest heaving with barely controlled breaths as his wild green eyes find mine. He broke the mirror, completely shattered it, and helped me. I blink at the Demon Prince in surprise, unsure why I see so much relief on his face as he studies me. My head spins, and I try to step toward him, but crumble to the ground as the red magic finally fully seeps from me.
“Shit!” I feel Jesthren’s warm hand catch me just as my head is about to crash into the polished floor, and I can't stop my vision from darkening.
“Jesthren?” I manage to raise my heavy limbs, hating how they feel so cold against his warm, strong body.
“Yes? Where are you hurt? Fuck, I can’t heal anything. Dammit!” I try to open my eyes; his big hand wraps around mine, and I release a strangled sob, everything crashing into me at once, overwhelming the hell out of me.
“Thanks,” I cough out, my throat constricting with the effort to speak. “For helping me.” I want to say more, tell him how grateful I am for his help, but when I try to speak, another sob sounds, and I hiccup, my body convulsing slightly as I gasp for breath. There is a brief moment of silence, then Jesthren’s hand squeezes mine.
“You’re welcome, Meyer. Now,” he commands, sounding so much like Nox it makes my chest hurt with a tinge of longing. “Follow the magic back to safety— to Lennox. He can heal you properly, alright?” Jesthren’s deep voice soothes and I feel my hair gently pushed from my brow. His words are soft and the last thing I hear as the darkness warps around me. I feel myself falling, the air whooshing past as the dark, comforting magic lessens.
“No!” I croak out, fear paralyzing me as I feel myself fall through nothingness. Panic sets in as I search for Nox, mentally reaching for him, hot tears running down my cheeks as another sob breaks from my lips. Suddenly, the darkness melts into a blinding light, making me wince, my head throbbing as the wind settles into a frigid cold.
Shit, where am I now? I crack an eye open, hoping to find myself back at the castle, and groan when I see the snowy landscape I know so well from my dreams. I’m lying on the ground, the snow almost cradling my body as I try to sit up, hissing in pain as my body protests.
I fist the silky fabric of my dress, looking down my body, but instead of the rich burgundy fabric I had been wearing, the familiar blue is back. Oddly enough, I don’t mind the dress this time. Having something I’m used to in my dream is almost a relief. My vision darkens at the edges, the throbbing pain in my body escalating into something that has me clenching my jaw. A pained whimper escapes, and I try to take a deep breath to calm my racing heart, but it only worsens, and I close my eyes, gasping as my body starts to shake uncontrollably.
“Mi Sol.”
The soft voice of my dream man whispers through the air, and this time, I don’t try to stop the sob that wracks my body.
“Valen?”
Cursing and loud steps thunder toward me just as he falls to his knees at my side. I try to open my eyes, needing to see him, but they don’t listen. I can't stop the tears and sobs as warm, strong arms scoop me off the frozen, snowy ground and cradle me gently to a warm chest.
“I’ve got you, love. I’ve got you,” he rasps, his voice cracking as warm lips press to my forehead. “It’s time to wake up, Regina. Come back to us,” he whispers, the familiar tinge of his calm magic cording around me, soothing my nerves and tugging me further into my dream. His lips move down my cheeks, dusting kisses everywhere he can touch before they seal to my own, as the dream world splinters around us, and he guides me back to where I belong.
FOUR
Meyer
Ifeel warm hands on me as I slowly wake up, and for a moment, I panic, recalling the heavy hands on my shoulders from the man with claws. But these hands don’t come with pain, so I relax slightly, drifting in and out of sleep as my mind wants to wake, but my body needs more rest. Eventually, I open my eyes, wincing at the bright light streaming into the room. I frown, squinting as I look around, trying to figure out where I am as I hear a distant voice. The voice goes in and out like a bad radio signal, adding to my confusion.
Am I dreaming again? I don’t think I’ve ever been in this room before, but from the log walls and familiar scent of pine and winter air, I’m going to assume I’m somehow back in the Ranger barracks. I blink a few times, trying to clear the fog of sleep from my mind as someone shifts on the bed next to me. Not wanting to disturb whoever it is, I carefully look to my side and smile when I see bright white-blond hair tousled every which way on the pillow next to mine—the sight taking the last remaining edge of fear from me.
A frown mars Valen’s handsome face as he sleeps, and he has dark circles under his eyes. His brow is furrowed like he’s in the middle of a bad dream, and I lift a hand, frowning when I see how it trembles between us. My muscles feel weak as I reach out and gently smooth his brow, wondering if there is a way to help him without waking him up. His hand, which is resting on my shoulder, the only part of him that’s touching me, shifts, and I recall how he said he has bad dreams that will often cause panic attacks.
Moving my fingers from his brow, I take the hand on my shoulder and gently shift it toward my throat, smiling softly when his fingers press against my pulse point. Valen breathes a sigh of relief, the frown softening as he rolls more toward me, his other hand coming to rest on my waist as he snuggles into my side.
Warm, strong fingers squeeze my other hand tightly, and I look to my left, seeing something I never thought I would. Lennox is sitting in a small chair, bent over the bed, resting his head on my thigh with his other hand on my hip. He’s sound asleep, and the normal grumpy expression he wears is gone, replaced with something softer, making him appear younger somehow. His black braids are a mess on top of his head, and I’m pretty sure they’re encrusted with blood. He’s wearing his black fighting leathers, and it looks like he also has dark shadows lingering under his closed eyes.
Something tugs in my chest at the sight of him, reminding me of the black magic that saved me. I tilt my head to the side, watching Nox and gently squeezing his hand back. The normal frustration I feel when I’m around him is gone, and all I want to do is yank him onto the bed with me so we can all cuddle. I shake my head and smother that idea as soon as it forms, wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I must be exhausted and delusional. Sure, Nox and I have sexual tension… and yeah, I may want to climb the man like a tree and do unspeakable things to him at times. But we do not cuddle. I frown down at his thick arms and broad shoulders… he would probably be an epic cuddler though.
Snapping my eyes closed, I groan and lean back into the pillows. I need him to wake up and glare at me, so I want to kick him in the balls again. That will make all of this weirdness go away. Life is so much simpler when I have murderous thoughts about Lennox Regalis. I open my eyes once more and look at Nox and then Valen. What the hell happened that made us all end up here?
I wrack my brain, trying to remember what happened before my crazy dreams as I look for Creed. Sure, I might still be pissed at him, but he would definitely be the better cuddle companion since Valen is asleep. Panic swirls in my chest when I don’t immediately find him, but it settles when I feel a soft tug on my hair and look up, finding Creed sitting against the headboard to my left, head slumped to the side in sleep. There is a lock of my long blonde hair clutched in his hand like he was playing with it before he fell asleep, and I smile, tugging it free as memories of what happened before slowly start filtering back to me.
The fight, the Rogue Hunters… Beastia everywhere, and the fighting outside the wall. I frown and shift my body slightly, trying to get more comfortable while not waking the guys as another memory steals my breath. The Demon on the wall with the arrow pointed at—I gasp and try to sit up as my heart skips a beat.
Razar! Where the hell is he?
I remember the pain in my back, the way my body slammed into his. His arms catching me, angry eyes staring down at me as he yelled my name… then concern? No, that can't be right. I must have hit my head or something. I look around the room, then do it again when I can’t find Razar.
Shit, shit, shit! Did the Demon get him? Was he hurt?
I strain to sit up, ready to kick Lennox awake to find out what happened, but my panicked struggle is interrupted as a figure steps out from the shadows in the far corner of the room. A long black cape billows around Razar’s feet as he steps forward, hood drawn over his eyes and a small, very angry ball of orange fur clutched in his grasp.
I stare at Milo, whose tiny sharp teeth are sunk into Razar’s pointer finger, and then glare up at the man gliding toward the bed. Milo was in my room last, meaning Razar went in there and stole him back. I open my mouth, ready to chew him a new one about how rude it is to steal someone’s cat when they just saved your life, when Razar slowly brings Milo away from his chest, his hand stroking his fur almost reverently before he gently deposits my cat on my belly.
Wait… what? Did Razar just give me my cat back?
Milo hisses up at Razar, fur standing on end before he turns in a circle, his small paws kneading at the blanket covering me, working to find a comfortable place to lie down. He quickly curls up on my stomach, flicking his fluffy tail around his body, the tip twitching in frustration as he keeps his angry blue eyes on Razar.
“What…” I trail off, more confused than ever. This must be some kind of trap. I’m pretty sure if I reach out to touch Razar, I will either A-end up with a knife in the back of my hand or B-end up on the floor as he shakes his head in disapproval at my pathetic attempt to pet my own cat. I stare at Milo with suspicion, then look back up at Razar, who is suddenly leaning over the bed, his dark green eyes coming into view under the hood, making me jerk my head back into my pillow.
Rough, strong fingers dart out, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up into those dark, angry eyes as he slowly shakes his head. My breath hitches as I swallow, trying not to think about how cool his fingers are on my heated skin.
“Don’t you EVER do that again,” he snarls, a threatening growl rumbling in his chest as he leans even closer to me, bringing our faces only inches apart.
“Razar,” I whisper, unsure of what to say, but before I can scrabble a thought together, Razar releases me. His hand darts down and grabs my free one, yanking it up so he can study it. His face darkens, anger the likes I’ve never seen on any human face crossing his features, and I hold my breath as I see a peek of his Beastia crawling to the surface. I lean forward, looking at my hand and gasp when I see the glowing red mark on my wrist, pulsing with red magic with every beat of my heart.
“Shit.” Razar nods, hand tightening on mine as he snarls and turns on his heel, cloak billowing out dramatically around him as he strides for the door.
“You have twenty-four hours with my tiny monster before I attempt to re-collect him, Pup,” he growls, opening the door to the room, and I raise a brow when I find Jesthren on the other side of the door, guarding it protectively. He looks into the room with a hint of concern but smiles warmly when he catches my eye, winking at me just before Razar slams it shut behind him. Did… did Razar just call me a pup?
All the sleeping men in the room jerk awake, Valen’s arms instantly banding around my body protectively as Lennox jumps to his feet, a blade magically appearing in his hand. Creed reaches for me, then stops when he sees me in Valen’s arms and blinks.
“Oh! Oh shit, she’s awake. Guys, Meyer’s awake!” Lennox scowls at Creed, catching him by the arm when he tries to launch himself at me. He yanks him off the bed and tosses him to the ground like a sack of flour, eliciting several loud and angry curses from Creed.
“We do have eyes, Credence.” Nox’s dark gaze rakes over me slowly and makes me shift in Valen’s arms. I feel slightly self-conscious with his full attention on me.
“Razar was supposed to wake us up when she regained consciousness,” Nox snaps, pointing his knife at the door as Valen’s fingers press so hard into my skin that it almost hurts. I comb my fingers through his wild hair to calm him down and sigh in contentment when he sags into me, tucking his face into my neck and pressing a soft kiss against my pulse point.
“I think the whole door slamming part was Razar’s way of waking us up,” Creed mutters, standing up and brushing off his clothes before slugging Nox in the arm, earning himself a warning glare from the grumpy Viking.
